


A Month of Mondays

by vicnic90



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, I fixed this one, I should really stop writing late, M/M, One Day Fic, Steve is Emma, Tony is Dexter, late night writing is really bad for me, repost after fixed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicnic90/pseuds/vicnic90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve become best friends after a failed attempt to sleep together after graduating college. The day was Victoria Day. They both go on to live their separate lives, but can't leave each other behind. Friendship and love power through, but real life catches up with them too fast. Where are they every Victoria Day?</p>
<p>Based of the movie One Day, but does not follow the plot line exactly. You do not need to have seen the movie to understand, but it might help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. May 23rd, 1988

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! Yes, you could have possible seen this fic before, but this one is NEW AND IMPROVED! As in I actually proof read it and rewrote a BUNCH of it. I REALLY need to stop writing late at night. It worked once, but definitely not again. Go check out the other story if you don't understand that reference. However, this fic is based off the One Day. It follows a boy and a girl that become friends by accident. It goes through multiple years together and its really cute. Go check it out if you haven't, it might help you out with my story. 
> 
> I really don't like it when authors try to copy another work's story line to the T, because that was the story for other characters not these. So, this fic is loosely based off of the movie. I've changed some of the events and most definatey some of the scenes to fit Steve and Tony instead of Dexter and Emma. Yet, do not fear! I did not stray to far from the path. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, see you at the end!

_**May 23rd, 1988**_

 

Singing and shouting filled the early morning Boston atmosphere, recent graduates clinged to one another more than they clinged to their discarded caps and gowns. One by one the individuals and couples broke apart from the rowdy group, staggering into lofty apartment buildings or taking turns down bleak streets. Boston was slowly beginning to wake up, but for the grads it had never went to sleep. The previous night was filled with last hoorahs and drinks for fallen friends that couldn’t make it through. 

There were left only four alumni swaggering their way through the streets before dawn. Two brunettes clung to one another, speaking in a language all their own. Science. The boy’s words never ceased, only constantly flowing with equations and ingenious ideas that would be lost later in sobriety. Her responses, his companion, were mostly laughter and quick retorts. The pink highlighted her cheeks, evidence of the alcohol from earlier combined with her light stagger. Trailing them were blonds, both men and both eyeing separate brown haired beauties. Words halted slowly from the engineer's mouth when he took his female counterpart by the waist and began to waltz. The provided music was obnoxious and out of tune, but it only seemed to encourage more laughter from all of the tipsy graduates, except one. 

“I am unsure how I am to feel about Tony participating in a dance with the lady Jane,” the long haired blond spoke. His heavy eyebrows knitted up and he left his friend to cut in the dance between Tony and Jane. Without asking, Thor gently pulled Jane his way and out of Tony’s embrace and left Tony twirling alone.

Tony’s focus was pulled onto the Adonis watching his friend dance with a barrel of a man. Steve’s eyes followed their every movement. Thor, Norwegian royalty, was outstandly graceful with precise steps obviously beaten into him by a private teacher at a young age. He and Tony shared that in common at least. Jane, however, had never ballroom danced a day in her young life. Her steps were misplaced compared to Thor, but the look on his face when she somehow understood his booming voice on where to move her feet made Steve want to find a drawing book to capture them. To grab a pencil and get every detail down correctly, to not forget a moment of their awkward, choppy waltz. To not miss the way Thor’s hand held Jane like a delicate kitten, so scared to break her yet not too afraid to stop. To even capture the blooming love in Jane’s blurry eyes when Thor swept her off her feet and into his strong arms.

Tony was drawn in not by the gaze on his face, but the way a man of his statue could somehow blend into the scenery, acts as a natural part of it. Seeming to be welcomed by the world. The way he held himself said military and by the lines on his face, he had seen war. That makes sense, someone whom had seen much violence would be the one to see the beauty in everything else. Maybe he could even see some of that in Tony too, if there even was any. 

“I don’t believe we have met, handsome. Anthony Edward Stark, you might have heard of me,” the boyhood charm was absent and in its place was allurement of a rich man’s son. 

“No, we have. Multiple times actually. I was at your fraternity house party last week and you hit on my best friend then proceed to streak down the road on a dare,” Steve was, in simple terms, awkward around someone he found attractive, so he was even more artless around Tony Stark. They had only shared one class, but in that one class he developed a particular attraction for Tony. In Bucky’s terms, Steve was in love with him and wanted to bang him like a screen door in a hurricane. 

“Oh, I’m sorry if I offended your friend,” Tony’s face fell quickly. Homosexuality was not common and most would take offence of being accused of batting for the other team. 

“Don’t worry, you made him feel very special. Called him pretty and everything. He was Cinderella at the ball.”

“I’m glad, though I think the wrong person caught my attention. I must have not been looking.” Charm, back on. 

“No, you did. Then spilt beer on my pants by accident after I said no to a threesome.” Steve corrected gently.

“Shit, sorry. I mean- that was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have assumed.” 

“You know what they say about assuming. It makes an ass out of you and an ass out of me.” 

“More me than you it seems,” Tony rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact with a perfectly nice man he had obviously offended. 

The silence was short lived before Steve picked the conversation back up, yet the awkwardness was not one to leave well enough alone. 

“Steve”

“Hm?”

“My name is Steven Grant Rogers. You told me yours.” 

“Its nice to meet you Steve. How about you let me correct my errors by walking you home.” Tony suggested. He extended his arm for Steve to take 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

 

~~~~~~

 

Before the door was open, Tony had his lips on the back of Steve’s neck. His tantalizing lips trying to suck a mark into the perfect Irish skin, leaving a reminder that he had been there. 

“Tony, th-this is me. Tha-thanks for-” Steve tried

Tony pressed Steve against the counter in the kitchen, the small of his exposed back meeting the coolness of granite. Tony leaned in while Steve met him, giving Steve enough time to say no, to deny him. But Steve met him halfway, surprising Tony with his vigorous want. Tony’s lips were unkept and rough, jagged skin from biting. His beard rubbed against Steve clean shaved jaw, turning the pale skin into a soft pink. 

Steve was awkward with the kiss, but Tony was patient with him. Steve’s hands were constantly moving, trying to find the right place. On Tony’s ass was too much, but his shoulders were not enough. He settled to start lifting Tony’s shirt higher, the warm tan skin radiating against his fingers. 

“I’m going to treat you so well, Steve Rogers. Gonna lay you down and worship you. Or I’ll let you be on top if you want. I don’t have a preference. I’ll be great for you,” Tony’s words were lost in Steve’s neck. Steve smelled of sandalwood and the beer from earlier. “Let's move this to the bedroom, Tony.” 

Their hands grabbed for purchase on one another’s bodies, a here or the tug of a belt there. Eventually Steve’s knees hit the edge of the mattress ending with Tony tumbling on top of him. Hands chased clothing, pulling and tugging until eventually all they had left were their pants. That was when Steve got cold feet suddenly.

“Tony, T-Tony, stop for a minute will ya. I’ll be right back, I’m just going to grab the stuff from the bathroom,” Steve clamored through. The bathroom did have extra condoms and lube, but he did have some hid in the back of his nightstand drawer. He quickly shifted Tony off, but gave a quick glance back with a smile that was suppose to be reassuring. 

Why did he have cold feet? It wasn’t like he was a virgin, given the only other time was with a guy that he had met in the Army. He had been kind and showed Steve what he need to do and talked him through how to open himself up, what felt good and what sure didn’t. But that guy wasn’t Tony Stark, not Tony Stark he has had a crush on since freshman year when he smiled at Steve one day. Not Tony Stark that kissed like he was drowning and Steve was a life raft. Not Tony Stark that was laying in his bed right now in probably just his boxers, tanned and ready for Steve. 

With the condoms and lube in hand like a metaphorical shield, Steve dauntlessly marched himself back to his room. 

Tony was leaning against the pillows, trying to find a way to place himself without looking posed against Steve’s rough cotton sheets. “Hey there handsome,” Tony smile helped Steve. It made him feel a bit relaxed, even somewhat safe with Tony. 

“Wow, you look...wow, Tony,” the blush was back from before. This time he couldn’t blame one too many beers for the flush on his cheeks. 

“Well, come and get some, beautiful,” Really Tony, smooth. 

“You know I will,” Steve replied stiffly and not at all embarrassing. More blush flooded his face and upper body.

Steve crawled into Tony’s lap, swaying his hips a bit to entice Tony or so he hoped. The lube and condoms were discarded onto a pillow. The kisses this time were softer and sweeter, but did nothing to calm Steve’s nerves. 

“I’m going to take my boxers off now,” Steve lamely commented. He went to pull them down, but Tony stopped him. “May I?” Steve nodded rigidly.

It was right before Tony was going to pull the boxers down his cock that Steve finally gave in and blurted out, “I can’t do this!”

Tony, raised with high manners, thankfully took his hands away instantly. “What is it baby, did I do something wrong?” Concern filled the small voice with fear following close behind. 

“No Tony, of course not. It’s not you, it's me.” That’s not cheesy at all Steve. “I not a one night stand kind of guy. It’s been awhile for me. You’re such a great guy and I don’t know what to do-”

“Steve, honey, don’t worry. It’s fine. If you want to stop we can stop and I’ll stay the rest of the night with you. We can just sleep. If you want, of course,” Tony was scared to overstep his boundaries. He didn’t want to make Steve even more uncomfortable. 

“Yeah? That would be nice.” They both let out a sigh of relief. Steve because Tony wasn’t mad at him for not being able to fulfill the night and Tony because Steve didn’t reject him instantly and ask him to leave. “Of course, Steve.”

Several minutes passed with them rearranging on the small twin bed before it ended with Tony being the small spoon and cradling against Steve’s side, his head resting on Steve’s protruding pectorals. 

“Did you know today is Victoria day in Canada?” Tony asked a few moments later to ease the pregnant silence. 

“For the queen?”

“For the queen. It is for her birthday, always the last Monday before May 25th.” 

“Wow, impressive. But why Monday? Mondays are awful.” Steve remarked

“I don’t know, this Monday isn’t too bad now is it, Steve?” Tony questioned

Steve went stiff and turned to Tony, “The Titanic sank on a Monday.” His words dripped with seriousness.

Tony lost it laughing, the sound ricocheting off of the walls and filling the barren room. Steve softened then, relaxing once again. 

“You’re such a troll, Steve.”

Steve would never admit it outloud to anyone, especially not to Bucky, but the way Tony said his name made Steve fall for him. His voice deep from sleepiness and his tone still light from the joke. Just one word made his stomach jump and heart drown with adoration for this man. Bucky may be just a bit right about how Steve feels about Tony. Just maybe. 

“How about when we wake up, we get some breakfast then maybe go for a walk? Sound good.” Steve’s voice was timid, fearful of rejection a few minutes later. Tony’s eyes had long since drifted closed.

“As long as there is coffee, I’ll consider it, handsome. Night Steve.”

“Night Tony.”


	2. May 22, 1989

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's off changing the world and Steve is changing his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to stop late night writing. Its never as good as I hope for it to be. Maybe one day I'll learn. HAHAHA One Day...I'm not as funny as I think I am either.

**_May 22, 1989_ **

“You’d figure all that time working on big machines in that lab of yours would have given you at least decent muscles. Lift Tony.” 

“Well not all of us are the peak of human physique, Steve!” Tony shouted through the half empty moving truck that Steve rented. All that was left was a few boxes labeled with Steve’s neat, crisp handwriting and an ancient twin bed. Cars zoomed by on the busy street of Brooklyn, but Tony had no problem setting the bed down in the middle of the road to complain about how heavy the bed was.

“I have tons of money, why didn’t you just let me hire guys to do this for you? It would have been quicker than this.” Tony’s hands found places on his hips to show his protest of actual manual labor.

Steve raised his hand to the stopped cars, trying to apologize to the angry New York drivers. “It would have been a waste when we can do it ourselves perfectly fine. Now pick up the damn bed Tony. You are such wimp sometimes.” 

With the little spat over quickly, the boys were left to conquer the stairs then a sharp right turn into the two bedroom apartment. 

“Tony, alright lift straight up. Just a bit higher. Now tu-Turn. Pivot. Pivot. Pivot!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! It's not going to pivot anymore. Let’s bring it back down and try again with it sideways.”

“No, it’ll fit. Tony, you just need to lift it higher.”

“Well, honey, I can’t get it any higher. Trust me, I’m the engineer. It's not going to work.”

With spat number 2 out of the way, taking much longer than spat number 1 for the day, the bed reached its new home in the back bedroom. Tony won the spat this time though, he was the engineer. 

The boxes came up last. Two for the kitchen, three to Steve’s room, one to Bucky’s for when he moved in after he finished his tour, and four in the living room. Steve piled his art supplies into a corner next to the only window in the living room. 

“This place has character! Just needs some cleaning, new paint, and maybe a bit of fixing. The sink leaks, but you can fix that next time you're in town right? D-do you know when you’ll be back?” Steve stammered through, bustling around trying to clean off mantels and dusty countertops. 

Tony is pulled back into reality, gone in a distant place where he wasn’t being sent off to another international headquarters. Was it Japan this time? Maybe Russia? “I don’t know, hopefully only a month or so. Dad wants me to ‘learn the ropes’ and ‘start living up to my destiny’. He needs to relax. I was hoping to take a little time off and...I don’t know...find myself.”

Tony couldn’t stop fidgeting, his hands were constantly busy with either his sunglasses or something from a box. He wasn’t as strong as his father liked to think, he was like the metal he worked with. Seemed strong, sturdy to the touch yet every material had its pressure amount. After so long it will cave in or burst, everything comes fall out. Tumbling, pouring, crashing down. 

Steve could see the uneasiness that overtaken Tony. This wasn’t his Tony. His Tony was confident, smartest guy around, always putting on the charm. When the cameras fell away and the people left, this is what was left. A truly scared boy thrusted into the shoes and responsibilities of a man. 

He longed to take that away for Tony, to be the lighthouse in the darkness. Steve wanted to take care of Tony, because he had too much on his plate to be so young. At that age, Steve had already became a captain in the army and had people under his command. People died if he made the wrong call, but he never felt as stressed as Tony seemed. He usually hid it behind publicity smiles and lines of women, but anything cracks eventually. 

_Here Atlas, let the me hold the sky for just a little bit_

“Have you told him that? Tell him you need a break.” Steve try to suggest. Yet, the response was always the same.

“Steve, you know I can’t. I’m lucky I’ve gotten this much time off as I have. If he had it his way, I would already be running the company. But he is too pigheaded to ever bow out gracefully. He’d still be breathing fire down my neck. He’s such a controlling ass.”

The pregnant pause expanded more than the living room separating them. There was a vast new chasm between them, a distance usually overcame. 

“I-I should go. I’ll miss my flight and if that happens again Rhodey will throw a patriot fit.” Tony finally looked up to meet Steve’s stare. 

“Okay. Be safe and be careful. Oh wait! I almost forgot. Stay right there.”

Steve rushed off to his new bedroom then quickly returning with a small box wrapped in decorative paper.

“What’s this?” Tony gently took the box from Steve, dumbfounded. 

“It’s your birthday present. It’s next week, but you’ll be out of town so I thought I should give it to you now. Happy Birthday Tony!”

The paper gave way easily under his quick hands and so did the ribbon. The box was discarded for the present inside. 

The picture inside a tiny frame grasped Tony heart and took away the air in the room. The day at the beach with all their friends. Clint had gotten this awful camera and was going around capturing photos of all the festivities. This one though...this one was a rare speciality. It captured Tony and Steve lost in some kind of inside joke or story maybe. Who knew. All that mattered was the obviously brilliant happiness on Tony’s face and the whimsical fascination displayed on Steve’s. This was them. This was them when no one was watching and nothing was stopping them. This was happiness. 

“Thank you!” Tony flinged his arms around Steve’s neck in a fanfare of a hug. 

“You’re more than welcome. You better get going or you’ll miss your flight.” Steve was reluctant to remove his arms though. Reluctant to give this happiness away and let the cold, harsh world drown it out. 

Tony pulled away first, “Don’t forget to write. I’ll send you a letter when I get there so you have the address. Send me nice long letters and tell me all about your new fantastic life of being an artist. All the naked models you paint and the buildings you sketch. Send it too.” 

“Will do Tony. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too Steve, but it's only for a month. Who knows, maybe when I come back you’ll have taken Brooklyn by storm. Then New York!”

~~~~~~

With Tony gone and only the boxes left, Steve had time to unpack and think. Plates go in the second cabinet from the stove on the first shelf. Cups next to the sink, nice ones on the second shelf. An easy routine. Put away. Don’t think of how sad Tony is. Rearrange. Repeat. Maybe the plates should go on the right instead? When was the last time he slept? No silverware should be in the third drawer, better access. How much coffee has he drank today? 

Boxes were folded for the dumpster, the truck was returned, but something was missing. Yes, right. Life in the apartment. Steve sat on the beaten couch watching the dusk float through the sun rays. Dust settling back to where it was before, settling around him. 

He had never really ever been alone. The closest thing was when his mother died when he was 18 and before he enlisted. Bucky checked on him everyday so he wasn’t alone. Even when he had nothing, he had Bucky. But Bucky was still finishing up his tour and Tony was off jet setting. The world had moved on without Steve Rogers. 

Dust settled and so did he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you get my Friend's reference? Did you get all the references? They made me giggle atleast....Tony birthday is actually May 29, so a little tie in there! Happy Birthday Tony!!
> 
> Like this fic? Leave me a kudo! Hate it? Tell me about it in the comment section. I thrive on your feed back. 
> 
> Also, if you want to see an example of my actually decent writing, check out my other Stony fic called When The Dust Settles, Who Will Be Left Standing. Thank you and have a great day!!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like this fic? Leave me a kudo or a comment! Like something specifically? Leave me a comment! Didn't like it or there is some stuff I can improve on? Leave me a comment. I love hearing from you guys. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
